


Behind Closed Doors

by jeck



Category: Dark Harbor (1998)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Sometimes secrets come out behind closed doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dramady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/gifts).



> Author's Notes: For my bb dramady because she's facing a tough week. <3

It was over. The storm had finally passed.

The young man could still feel the crushing of the snow under his feet even after he'd already stepped inside the warm house. His lips still tingled from that kiss, his cold hand still numbly clutching on to David's.

The click of the door was loud; it was closed, locked, and even though it had glass, the frost that clung to it made it impossible to see outside. It was like they had entered a whole new world - one that neither of them knew how to navigate.

He shivered from the cold but when be looked at David, there was a heat in his eyes. The young man stood there staring until the haze, unlike the frost on the panes of glass, melted and suddenly he could see clearly.

"Did you miss me?" He rasped, taking slow steps closer to David who looked like a wounded animal that could still, at any time, skitter away. He still wasn't sure if David was afraid, or if he was relieved. He could see the struggle there in his eyes.

"Did you miss me?" The young man said again with a bit more emphasis. He tilted his head slowly to the side, tongue slipping out of his mouth to lick his wind chapped lips and to taste David that still lingered on his lips.

It took several beats before David finally answered. The "yes" was softly spoken and it made the young man smile.

He nodded and then his stare grew fiercer, hotter, hungry. "Take your clothes off ... show me the bedroom."

What they did for the next several hours some might call making love. Others would call it perversion. The young man thought it was somewhere in between.

But from what he knew of David? David would be too cynical to call it need.

Lying on his back, eyes to the ceiling the young man kept his lips pressed to hold his cigarette in place. He watched the smoke rise in graceful wisps over his head. He was determined to resist the pull of intense eyes that were on him. He could _feel_ them staring that he no longer needed to look David's way.

He picked the cigarette from his mouth and then after a deep drag he asked, "do you remember that shit you said? About love and stuff?" The young man still didn't turn his head but instead he pulled the cigarette from his mouth, blowing out more smoke over their heads.

He could see David's hand hover hesitantly over his chest. He didn't move.

"I remember, yes," David replied, before finally placing his palm flat on his chest. He could hear the way David's breath hitched and he could feel the way his heart thumped as it beat under David's hand.

"Can you … I dunno ..." Now he turned his head, slitted eyes fixed on David's face. "... write that down for me?"

David looked at him, incredulous, his voice rising. "Now?"

"Well, yeah."

There was a lot of mumbling even while David, naked, looked for a pad of paper and a pen and started writing. Things about how it was too cold to get up, how the floor was freezing and how he'd waited a very long time for this. _This_.

The young man was smirking. Putting out his cigarette in the ashtray that David insisted he use - the one he placed right by his bedside - and then he lit up one more.

Once David was done, he tore the paper off the pad and handed it to him with a very curt, "here." He gave the young man a glare. "I am _not_ signing a suicide note."

The paper made a rustling noise when the young man looked at it, touching the words and already familiar with David's handwriting even if he couldn't read it. He took another deep drag of his cigarette and then he crushed it in the ashtray.

"Read it." His voice was soft, almost whispered as he handed it back to David. Their fingers brushed and the young man let his touch linger. "Read it … to me." He could see David swallow then he took a soft but deep breath before David's eyes flicked from him to the paper.

David started to read.

"You know, I look at you and it's funny …" It seemed that David didn't need to read the rest. They looked at each other while he continued. "You don't remind me of myself exactly, but you remind me of a certain time. I remember what I used to think love was then: The fireworks, the explosions, the highlights ... but, it's not. It's time. To go through the seasons together. Through change. Through the ups and downs ..."

David paused for a long time, staring at the young man with what looked like longing, maybe pleading in his eyes. "To be able to look at your beloved in the eye and say we did that together as one. We chose each other above all others."

"That's love. It's unexplainable." David was speaking slowly, whispering. "It's a secret and can only be known … once - you've done - the time."

The young man moved closer and then he plucked the pen from where it had been discarded on the bed.

"Sign it. Your John Hancock. I want it right here." He used the pen to point to where he wanted David to write his name down. "It's not a suicide note."

He could see how David's hands shook when he took the pen. It was subtle, but it was there. He scribbled his name on the paper and then the young man took the pen back and he pressed closer until his shoulder rested against David's chest and his temple was touching David's cheek.

Alexis had asked him if he had ever fallen in love. He had answered no, not in any sense of the word.

He drew a star next to David's name and then he glanced up to meet David's eyes. They stared at each other for a very long time.

Somehow, now, the young man thought that things had changed.

It wasn't a suicide note. It was a promise.

And now? All they had was time.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Winter Nights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/211048) by [dramady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady)




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